Light Of Saturnalia
by Laeta
Summary: Follows Samhain and Mabon. You have to decide where to go from here. You’ve just seen Cath die and then, happier than she’s ever been in life. [GC]
1. A Ghostly Omen

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Crime Scene Investigation_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm. I will resurrect another figure from my past, Magister Guderian, Salve! Thank you for the laughs. I bow to the beta goddess named Angie. ::shrugs:: There was never a stipulation that I had to make any sense to anybody other than myself. :) The inspiration is fairly obvious; a nod to great literature: _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens.

Summary: You have to decide where to go from here. You've just seen Cath die and then, happier than she's ever been in life.

Rating: PG-13

Archives: the Graveyard, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): G/C

Spoiler(s): Anything after LHB that involves Eddie.

Follows _Business On Samhain_ and _Conscious About Mabon_.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Light Of Saturnalia

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 1: A Ghostly Omen

"Gil. You disappoint me."

The voice cut dangerously through the mental fog Grissom habitually erected whenever he read or worked. He dropped the news journal into his lap, lifted and tilted his head. His gaze found Eddie sitting atop the counter of the island separating the living area from the kitchen; the gaze sharpened as Grissom removed his glasses.

Eddie was impervious to the potency of the stare; he merely returned a pointed look. He could see the vats of Grissom's legendary patience slowly drain and dry. For added annoyance, he chose an apple at random from the bowl and took a bite.

It was the final weight that tipped Grissom's ire.

"Ed Willows, you ass! Do you have any idea of what you've done this past month? Lindsey's never been happier, I grant you that, but Catherine won't give me the time of day! I can't remember any more of that dream, so I'm through with you. No more of your games."

Eddie finished the apple and tossed it in the direction of the garbage can. Propping his feet on two stools, he leaned elbows on knees and looked across the room, keeping his gaze trained on Grissom, who traversed a rut in the far length of the room. Lacing his hand together, he waited another tense minute before he spoke.

"Finished? Feel better now?"

Grissom wanted to feel petty. He was worked up, frustrated with Eddie and the inability to communicate openly with Catherine. He was absolutely certain she would think he was completely crazy, not for aligning with Eddie, but for these alleged conversations. So, he stopped beside the chair and saw the magazine lying there, inviting him to throw it at Eddie. Moving to follow the impulse, he watched amazed as his hand went completely through the furniture and literature.

He heard Eddie's voice, dissonant as echoes in a cavern.

"I came to you on Samhain. We met in the middle on Mabon. Tonight is Saturnalia; tonight, your world dies and is reborn; you come to me this time. I've brought you into the spirit world, Gil."

As his townhouse dissolved around him, Grissom asked, "Am I dead?"

Eddie laughed. "That's a typical question, but, you're not a typical man. I would've expected you to ask something more like, 'how is this physically possible?'."

Grissom felt disconnected from reality. Vertigo plagued him in the darkness that fell around them; Eddie remained in his seated position, feet pressed against air. He reached out and touched nothing, his feet touched nothing, and Eddie was his only lifeline. The sensation was highly distasteful.

He closed his eyes, wanting to shut out everything. Remembering that dual feeling of relief and grief over Eddie's death back in February - grief over the death of a friend, no matter how former; relief in the long desired absence.

When the spinning sensation stopped, he was no more resolved over his opinion on his current situation. Part of him regretting taking on the first request, especially since it led to the one burdening him now. A different portion would never regret Lindsey's happiness; he merely preferred all the rest to never have happened. The last aspect of him wanted the challenge, wanted to see where all this would lead.

Once again, Eddie showed a profound increase in his ability to read Grissom.

"See, it's like this, Gil, I left Cath in a difficult situation, I know. I'm trying to fix it, but she'll only take help from one person." He returned to the pointed glare. "You know who I'm talking about."

Resignation tasted bad, very, very bitter.

Eddie lifted a hand, which simultaneously cleared the missing dream sequence in Grissom's memory banks. Before Eddie ended the dream he had on Thanksgiving Day, he had been explaining the relationship between Mabon and Catherine.

  


"Catherine is Mabon, in a way. She's in that state of change - one decision can bring her life one way, the same decision at a slightly different point can bring her future to a completely separate place. But, her life's been too much about death, Gil. She works as a criminalist, and I don't say that word as a curse. I respect her work, but I've always hated what it brings out of her."

Grissom agreed on that point. The anger, frustration, and disbelief on the lowness the human spirit was capable.

"I was outside all that, until the rape case. And the circumstances of my death. You remember, you were there. And she didn't take your support then, Gil. Don't you even want to know why?"

"I do know; she doesn't need me."

Eddie shook his head in exasperation. "For a smart man, that's an incredibly stupid read on it. I was a glaring reminder that death touches everyone, and it's made her forget there's life. I've seen the beauty of life, in the afterlife, beyond the veil. She needs to remember what's out there. If not for her sake, for Lindsey's. Even for yours."

"What does all this have to do with me?"

"You need to remind her that there's still love in the world. Everything's about love; life is love. You just have to do one simple thing."

"What's that?"

"Show her a miracle."

  


Grissom remembered it all now, as if it just happened. And he had not done a thing except feel disappointment in himself. He was only human, a mortal human; he had no powers to show Catherine a miracle. Eddie's words were a metaphor, he knew that on some level, but what it meant for him to do drove Grissom to distraction.

Catherine called him on it, and Grissom could not deliver the truth. Not that he would not give it to her; the truth of the situation was he did not even know what was going on himself.

He was glad at Catherine's vehemence; the flair of emotion kept him from completely deteriorating into total abandon. Like picking at a scab, he nudged her - ever so often - to experience it, again and again. Always knowing the miracle involved something so intimately basic.

Grissom sat on the nonexistent floor. Knees bent, he braced his arms on them so they could support his head. He spoke to the floor.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Miracles don't just come out of me."

"That's where you're wrong. You give miracles to a victim's family everyday of your life; you give them the truth. That's all you had to do with Cath."

"What truth?" He screamed that at Eddie. Still not understanding anything, but knowing when he did, he would balk at the simplicity.

"I can't tell you, Gil. I can only show you things to help you figure it out. You have to, or Cath will never see the light in her life and the darkness of her pain will engulf her."

  


***** ***** *****  
© RK 07.Nov.2003


	2. The Ghost of Past Realities

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Crime Scene Investigation_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm. I will resurrect another figure from my past, Magister Guderian, Salve! Thank you for the laughs. I bow to the beta goddess named Angie. ::shrugs:: There was never a stipulation that I had to make any sense to anybody other than myself. :) The inspiration is fairly obvious; a nod to great literature: _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens.

Summary: You have to decide where to go from here. You've just seen Cath die and then, happier than she's ever been in life.

Rating: PG-13

Archives: the Graveyard, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): G/C

Spoiler(s): Anything after LHB that involves Eddie.

Follows _Business On Samhain_ and _Conscious About Mabon_.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Light Of Saturnalia

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 2: The Ghost of Past Realities

A light slowly grew from one side of the infinite void, and it lit a circular spot at right angles to both Grissom and Eddie. Eddie stood and floated to Grissom's side, bringing the circle of light directly in front of them.

"Stand up, Gil. Tell me what you see."

Like a projected movie, the light shifted and changed to open inside Catherine's living room. He watched her glance at the phone before moving to the room's center. There were a number of different sized cardboard boxes, some with writing in black marker - "Tree", "Outside", "Ornaments". Lindsey worked out of that last box, carefully placing the crystal and glass decoration onto the fake plastic of the pine tree.

It was cozy. So warm that Grissom wanted to reach in and feel it burn. He could not stop himself from reaching, and suddenly, he was in the room. An invisible presence in the corner of Catherine's living room. Besides him, Eddie watched, too; his moment of weakness from Thanksgiving Day had passed. He watched his ex-wife and daughter impartially.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Look more carefully."

Catherine had glanced toward the phone again, as though she was willing it to ring. Vague teases of irritation showed in the manner she shook her head to force her concentration to the decorating process. Lindsey glanced in her mother's direction with worry.

She inverted their roles by saying a few gentle words. "He'll call. He always comes."

Catherine smiled gratefully, laughed a little, too, at her preoccupation.

"Who are they waiting for?" Grissom asked, as mother and daughter resumed their separate tasks.

"Don't you recognize anything about this?"

He shook his head. "Why? Should I?"

"They're waiting for you."

Shock widened Grissom's eyes to comic proportions. Eddie spelled it out for him.

"Year after year, they wait for you, Gil. Look," he urged Grissom yet again.

Catherine and Lindsey were finished: tree decorated, lights up, stockings hung. One box remained, which they treated so tenderly as they unpacked it. Slim picture frames emerged, close to twenty of them, each wrapped in their own soft cloth.

Before he and Eddie could watch them finish, the scene faded out and they were back in the room without bounds.

But Grissom knew what they were. After all, he had searched painstakingly, year after year, for each and every one of those frames. They bordered magnificent miniature stained glassed images, all biblical in nature. While Grissom could not give Catherine the beauty of their images in a church setting, he could give the next best thing.

Back when the majority of the world was illiterate, stained glass images depicting biblical scenes were the main avenue the Church used to spread their message. Their unique beauty as the sun shone through them instilled awe, hundreds of years ago and still today.

He first started giving them to Catherine as a way to share his faith, the same one he and Eddie remembered from their boyhood; the same one that Catherine's life rotated about as a child. Those were the days when the three coexisted together, rather than the fragmented segments between which Catherine buffered. Coming to Vegas, the things he and Eddie experienced, separately and together, brought a different coming of age for both men. The commonality was the loss of faith; the difference was the consequences.

He had introduced them and watched as Catherine's presence changed Eddie. Where Eddie became outrageously flamboyant, Grissom withdrew. Best man at Eddie's wedding, he wrote a double-edged eulogy for his funeral. Trying hard to remember the friendship, all he could recall were the disasters of adulthood and responsibility.

And yet, every year, he helped Catherine to array them in the window. Sometimes, Eddie would join them, telling whatever story he could remember that involved the scene in hand. More and more, he would be absent, leaving Grissom and Catherine to light the candles that shone behind each frame and colored the room.

He and Catherine took turns teaching Lindsey the stories, and they confided which ones meant the most. Catherine always loved the very first one - an image of the Virgin Mary with the babe who would soon create so much. She loved the miracle, even more so after Lindsey's birth.

  


Grissom turned to Eddie now, who leaned against the gray.

"Why did you show me that?"

"Just so you know what her life is like with you in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Eddie ran a hand through his hair. "You gave her up for me, but she always needed you. She just doesn't know it yet. Neither do you."

"And that's supposed to change something?"

He shook his head. "No. You're the one who's supposed to change everything."

"How do I change something when I don't even know what needs changing?"

"I thought you had amazing powers of observation. What did you see in the living room?"

Grissom slowly rewound the little domestic scene he had just witnessed and spoke as he saw it. "Cath doesn't look happy. Whatever is going on, Lindsey knows."

"Try pinpointing what it is."

He tried; he really did, but it was too much to ask. Eddie simply shrugged and pointed to the growing light again. Somehow, Grissom knew it would be another scene, different yet intimately relevant to the situation.

  


***** ***** *****  
© RK 09.Nov.2003


	3. The Ghost of Absence

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Crime Scene Investigation_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm. I will resurrect another figure from my past, Magister Guderian, Salve! Thank you for the laughs. I bow to the beta goddess named Angie. ::shrugs:: There was never a stipulation that I had to make any sense to anybody other than myself. :) The inspiration is fairly obvious; a nod to great literature: _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens.

Summary: You have to decide where to go from here. You've just seen Cath die and then, happier than she's ever been in life.

Rating: PG-13

Archives: the Graveyard, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): G/C

Spoiler(s): Anything after LHB that involves Eddie.

Follows _Business On Samhain_ and _Conscious About Mabon_.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Light Of Saturnalia

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 3: The Ghost of Absence

Where the previous scene had been bright, golden, and lightly coated with sadness, this one was gloomy and cold. At first, Grissom could not make out any details of the room, but he could smell the neglect. Something scurried along the floor near his feet and kicked up dirt and dust.

The sudden lighting of a bare bulb lamp cut through the haze and Grissom threw his arm up to shield his eyes. Gradually, his eyes adjusted and he cringed at the dilapidated chaos of the room.

Wall studs were exposed wherever the drywall had crumbled from the downward pressure of water and gravity. Water marks pained all available vertical surfaces and some horizontal. The closet in the near corner was well-kept, however, and over flowing. Same for the two moderately sized dressers. A simple table and straight backed chair served as a desk. It was stacked high with literature; they seemed awkward being there. In the far corner, the lamp resided on the floor next to the bed. The sheets and blankets haphazardly covering the bed were worn and proudly sported faded designs.

A toilet flushed and Grissom knew the sink would run dirty water. He imagined cockroaches and other vermin to be companions in the grime. When the bathroom door opened, Grissom lunged towards Eddie; he would recognize that face anywhere.

"What the hell happened to her?"

Grissom could see pain in Eddie's eyes, too, at the barely passable hospitality of the room. One thing they had always agreed upon was that Catherine deserved the very best.

In Grissom's weakening grasp, Eddie turned his head to look at Catherine; Grissom followed, his volition lost unto himself. Catherine had managed to stagger from the bathroom to her bed where she stared at the wall with unseeing eyes. A precisely aligned line of cocaine lay on a tray, forgotten by her.

"How old is she here?"

"Same as she is now, if she even made it this far."

Stark pain effused itself into one word: "Why?"

Meanwhile, Catherine remembered the line of cocaine; she leaned over and snorted it in one practiced, smooth move. It was one line too many. She died utterly alone in a room off a back alley of the Strip.

In the blink of an eye, the image imprinted itself in his mind's eye, and he and Eddie were back in the gray room.

"Eddie, I think you better explain."

"What's there to explain? It's as simple as what if - what if she never met you? That's what would've happened to her."

"But I didn't help clean her up. You did."

"Right, but it was you who introduced me to Cath. If you didn't come to Vegas when you did, if you didn't let me stay a while with you, then this is the what-if."

"One chance meeting?"

"It wasn't chance. That was fate. You thought the one before was sad, then what about this one, Gil? Huh? You saved her from that!"

"I always thought she never needed me."

"Yeah. And you want to know something else?" Eddie simply ignored the negative response from Grissom's general direction.

"They called you. The Las Vegas Police Department called you in from Santa Monica because of Sam Braun. In this life, Cath has a chance to know the truth; in that one, Sam Braun, Cath - they never had the opportunity."

He walked to Grissom, to make sure he was paying attention.

"Sam Braun requested the best and that was you so nothing on that score has changed. You came and worked her case. You and Cath, again. She may not have met you but you sure as hell met her. That's fate in all its irony."

Grissom stared off into nothing, doing his best to assimilate information. Eventually, Eddie leaned almost companionably next to him, shifting his body from confrontational to conversation.

"Gil, I know you never thought I was good enough for Cath. I know that you never approved of me marrying her. But you're the one who gave her another chance at life. Isn't this proof?"

"What was there for me to object? You made her happy, that's all that mattered."

"But, you know what? I wasn't right for her. The divorce made sure of it and death reinforced it."

"What are you saying?"

"That it wasn't you who made her life difficult. Her life now is only one way it could've gone for her with you."

"There's another? I don't want to see anymore." His voice sounded so hollow.

"This is the last one, I promise. C'mon, Gil, look one last time."

  


***** ***** *****  
© RK 10.Nov.2003


	4. The Ghost of Possibility

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Crime Scene Investigation_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm. I will resurrect another figure from my past, Magister Guderian, Salve! Thank you for the laughs. I bow to the beta goddess named Angie. ::shrugs:: There was never a stipulation that I had to make any sense to anybody other than myself. :) The inspiration is fairly obvious; a nod to great literature: _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens.

Summary: You have to decide where to go from here. You've just seen Cath die and then, happier than she's ever been in life.

Rating: PG-13

Archives: the Graveyard, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): G/C

Spoiler(s): Anything after LHB that involves Eddie.

Follows _Business On Samhain_ and _Conscious About Mabon_.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Light Of Saturnalia

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 4: The Ghost of Possibility

They walked onto a scene similar to the first except the room was larger, and somehow it glowed more. There were three stockings hung on the pseudo fireplace, in which burned a merry gas fire. A real, amazing pine tree rested in the corner; its jovial skirt was painted with shiny gift-wrapped presents.

Grissom could smell sweet foodstuffs wafting from the kitchen, and two female voices sang along with the radio. The front door opened and two boys - one a child, the other almost a young man - greeted Grissom's counterpart. One of the boys called for Mother, who answered readily.

Grissom's counterpart stood in the doorway, slowly taking stock of his family's whirlwind of activity during the day. The woman who joined him was none other than Catherine.

Three teasing whoops could be heard; the young man proudly buffed his nails on his shirt. He pointed above their heads. The children had caught their parents beneath the mistletoe.

Happiness flowing through their veins, Grissom pulled Catherine towards him, slowing, prolonging the romance of the moment. He kissed her as gently as their first kiss. The young man nodded in approval, his sister sighed dreamily; they both knew this was love. The youngest simply shrugged and went to see how many stolen cookies he could eat before dinner.

They were still in the doorway, Grissom leaning his forehead against Cath's. Their conversation was too low, too private, to be overheard, but it was obvious that all was right in their world.

  


"I told you before there was two ways Cath's life could've gone. This is the other."

"How?"

Eddie decided to give Grissom a little benefit of the doubt; this scene was probably more difficult to accept than the previous one.

"You showed her a miracle."

  


The scene had changed. It was after dinner, and the tree, which the children had decorated so dedicatedly, was lit and the only other light was cast from the fireplace. Someone had brought the radio into the living room and it played a gentle waltz.

Catherine and Grissom swayed in the center of the room, their oldest children watched them. The boy had fallen asleep not too long ago on the couch.

"Mom, you make it so easy," the girl complained.

Catherine smiled and separated herself from her partner.

"It's because your dad makes it easy."

The girl pouted; she would be a heart breaker her parents mused. Grissom walked to his daughter and extended his hand.

"Miss Lindsey Grissom, may I have this dance?" he asked, as formally as he could.

She rose, giggling, and followed her father's lead. Catherine took her daughter's seat and her son wrapped his arm around her.

"You know, Mom, every year, I think I'm getting too old for Christmas."

Catherine hugged him close. "You're growing up too fast for me."

The young man smiled, and continued. "But Christmas always comes, and I can't think of a better place to be than here at home."

"Me, too, Steve. Me, too."

Steve grinned, showing off his youthful exuberance. "I'm going to save Dad from Lindsey's feet."

So the two men changed places and Grissom feigned a collapse beside Catherine.

"I'm getting too old for them."

Catherine burst out laughing, and the scene faded to gray.

  


"What did you think of that one?"

"I don't think I've ever heard her laugh that way before."

Eddie nodded.

"Could she really be that happy with me?"

"You saw it same as I did. What does the evidence show?"

"How old were they?"

"Who?"

"The kids."

"Well, Lindsey, you know -"

"She's the same age here?" Grissom interrupted.

"Yeah. Steve's thirteen or fourteen, I think. And Mark is seven."

"They look happy." And Grissom had to ask. "Where are you in that lifetime?"

Eddie was clearly surprised by the question. While he was free to show the former ties of friendship holding him to Grissom, he did not think they were still holding Grissom to him.

"I'm the uncle who spoils them rotten. See, I've realized that while I love Lindsey and always will, I wasn't cut out to be a father. I guess that's one reason why me and Cath didn't work out. You, on the other hand, you were always meant to be a father. It suits you, it really does."

"What happens now?"

"You have to decide where to go from here. You've just seen Cath die and then, happier than she's ever been in life."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to show her."

"Sure, you do. I put my vote of confidence in you."

"What if I don't figure it out?"

Eddie relaxed against the gray, crossing his arms across his chest. His face showed absolutely no concern. "Oh, I wouldn't be too worried about that. You already have."

But Grissom was too distracted by another point and could not move on until he had at least one answer.

"Eddie, can I ask you something?"

"I can't guarantee I can answer it."

"Understandable. Are you the ghost of Christmas past, present or future?"

Eddie glanced at Grissom, an odd expression on his face. He took a moment longer to answer. "Actually, I'm just a ghost." Then, he glanced off into the distance and said, "C'mon. It's time for you to go, you have a standing appointment with two gorgeous women."

  


***** ***** *****  
© RK 10.Nov.2003


End file.
